


Solace

by shiny_starlight



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, injured!steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-12
Updated: 2011-10-12
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/264126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiny_starlight/pseuds/shiny_starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly rough day, Steve comes to some realisations about himself and how he feels about Danny</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Written for shoot_the_curl challenge on lj. I was prompted wth 'Fade Into You'

Steve didn’t consider himself to be old, but he admitted that he felt every single one of his thirty-five years as he wearily punched in the alarm code and unlocked his front door. His shoulders, bruised from when he had taken the leap from the moving truck, ached and protested the movement most vociferously, and it took all of Steve’s training to bite back the whimper that threatened to escape. God, he was pathetic.

‘Man up, McGarrett,’ he scolded himself as he slammed the door shut and strode through the house to the kitchen. He ignored the protests from his bruised muscles, the pull and burn of the stitches low in his side from where he’d been grazed by a lucky shot from the perp and tossed aside the little bottle of pain killers given to him by the ER doc. He stood at the sink and stared blindly out the window, draining several glasses of water as his mind drifted.

Today had been tough on all of them. It was a fucked up case to begin with, a messy, familial affair gone wrong that, in the end, had had an effect on all the members of Five-0 in one way or another before the case was closed. It has started with a call to a crime scene in the early hours of the morning, hours even before Steve’s usual morning swim, and it ended with a family completely decimated and torn apart, lies and betrayals spilling over into utter chaos. It ended with a father dead, horribly murdered by his jealous and unstable brother, a young girl of four undoubtedly traumatised after being kidnapped by her uncle, who was convinced he was her father, and a woman losing her husband, and almost losing her child, over a stupid mistake she had made years before.

It had ended with Steve putting two rounds through Raymond Collins’ chest just moment before he was about to pull the trigger and shoot Danny at near point-blank range. He doesn’t remember the shot; doesn’t remember taking aim or making the conscious decision to pull the trigger. All he knew was that Danny, _his_ Danny, was in danger, and rage and instinct had taken over. He’d made the shot, putting Collin’s down, but for a second, the longest second of his life, Steve thought he had been too late and Collin’s would shoot. But instead, he crumpled to the ground, and Danny had started ranting, hauling the little girl to safety and trying to shield her as he had been trying to do all along.

Steve was no idiot. He had known for a long time that he was falling for Danny. He was self-aware enough to realise this. But the relief he felt at the Jersey accent went way beyond that of the relief knowing a colleague and close friend had made it. And the place he had went to when Danny had been in danger, that place ruled by instinct and the desire to protect what was his, was like nothing Steve had ever experienced before. Danny had become the most important person in his life, the person that meant the most to Steve, and that thought scared him shitless. He loved Danny, more than he had ever loved anyone before, and that was the single, most terrifying thought of his life.

He snapped back to awareness, body tensing and preparing for a fight when his front door opened noisily, and he didn’t exactly relax when he recognised the tread of the footsteps through his living room. Speak of the devil. Some of the tension drained from his body, but not all. Danny didn’t know how Steve felt, and if Steve wasn’t careful, some of what he was feeling could slip through. Steve wouldn’t be able to handle it if Danny rejected him. He just… wouldn’t.

“Babe?” Danny called from the living room, wariness in his tone, probably from the fact that Steve hadn’t appeared in front of him like a ‘ _freakin’ ninja_ ’ as soon as he opened the door.

“In the kitchen,” Steve called, easing himself into a chair by the table and bracing for Hurricane Daniel. Sure enough, when Danny stepped into the kitchen, his fatherly instincts took over, and Steve resigned himself to being mother-henned within an inch of his life.

“What the hell, Steve?” Danny demanded, striding over to where Steve was sitting with his arms resting on the table. With gentleness that made his heart lurch, Danny gently places his fingers under Steve’s chin and tilted his head up, examining the bruises and scratches Steve had accumulated during the day. He tisked as he moved his chin, cataloguing each mark in the fading light before he gently ran the pad of his thumb over a particularly nasty gash on his cheek. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes flew to Danny’s, who then gulped audibly. Danny broke eye-contact, moving down slowly, checking Steve’s arms for injuries, feather-light fingers moving down his torso and skirting the edge of the bandages on his side.

“You should he in hospital,” he decided, straightening up and checking Steve’s forehead with practiced ease that made Steve smile. It was true. He should be in hospital. The injury to his side was serious enough that there had been almost yelling on the part of the Doctor when Steve had decided to leave, but he’d backed down when Steve had given him his patented SEAL ‘Do Not Fuck With Me’ Face, and grudgingly prescribed him painkillers and antibiotics. Steve had left with instructions to ‘ _not be a damned idiot and come back when his fever spikes_ ’.

“Don’t sweat it, Danno. I’m fine,” Steve assured him.

“You most certainly are not ‘fine’, Steven,” Danny insisted, taking a step back and giving Steve some desperately needed space. “I went to the hospital looking for you when we got things sorted out with the Collins’. Little Jessica is ok, by the way. Back at home, safe but traumatised but what’s happened. Poor kid.” For a moment, Danny trailed off, and Steve knew his thoughts were on his own daughter, but he snapped out of it quickly enough to glare at Steve. “I went to the hospital, and Doctor Winters told me that you had signed out against his strenuous advice that you stay in over-night. Your truck isn’t outside, so I’m assuming you took a cab home, because if I find out you walked home from the hospital, so help me Steven…”

“I got a cab,” Steve told him, somewhat guiltily. “I just… needed to be home.” He needed to process what had happened, and his feelings for Danny, and he _really_ couldn’t have done it in a hospital ward.

He couldn’t do it with Danny here either. The temptation to lean into him, to soak up his warmth was too great.

“You needed to be home,” Danny said flatly.

“Yes. I needed to be home. And now, as you can see, I’m fine. I have my medication…”

“Which I would bet good money you haven’t taken and had no plans to,” Danny interrupted but Steve ignored him.

“… and I just plan to take a shower and crash. So, goodnight Danno.”

It was a good effort, a valiant one, but he knew it was a lost cause when Danny’s face hardened and he got that stubborn set in his jaw that Steve loved when it wasn’t directed at him, and straightened his shoulders.

“If you think I’m leaving you alone after the day we’ve had, after you get _shot_ and it _was not_ just a graze, Steven, so don’t even try to claim otherwise, then you don’t know me at all. Now, what have you eaten today?” he asked, stepping away to the fridge. Steve dropped his head to the table, not having the energy to fight and sighed as deeply as his inured side would allow.

“I managed to grab half a sandwich around lunch time,” he told Danny.

“Right, ok.” Danny moved across the kitchen to the refrigerator, pulling out the fixings for another sandwich. “Where are your meds” he asked over his shoulder, and Steve waved a hand at the corner he’d tossed the bag into earlier. He heard Danny opening and rummaging through the little white bag, mumbling to himself as he read the names and instructions on all the medication. Steve must have zoned out for a while, the gentle hum of Danny moving around his kitchen a distraction from the constant, and growing, ache in his side and was therefore startled when Danny put the plate down in front of him. He jumped slightly, and hissed in pain, leaning into Danny’s warmth and cursing himself for the weakness when his partner placed a concerned hand on his back.

“You ok, Babe?” Danny asked, voice soft with concern, and Steve just wanted to give in and cry. It just wasn’t _fair_. How was he supposed to hide how he felt about Danny when he was right _there_ and felt so warm and comforting. Steve let himself slump, head resting on Danny’s broad chest, fingers tangling in the front of Danny’s shirt. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Danny underneath the traces of gunpowder and sweat.

“Steve?”

“Danny…” Steve breathed, heart aching with the concern in Danny’s voice. “I’m good. I’m ok.”

“You sure about that?” Danny asked, shifting out of Steve’s grip and pulling out the chair next to Steve before sitting down. He cupped Steve’s face with one hand and brought his face level with Danny’s own. Steve’s defences were down. He was injured, in pain, and Danny was _right there_. How he felt was written all over his face, he just knew it. The sharp intake of breath from Danny confirmed that little fact. He looked away, unable to watch Danny’s face harden in disgust and to watch him walk away.

“Oh, Babe,” Danny said, and somehow, that was even worse. He didn’t want Danny’s pity.

“Just go, Danny,” Steve said, defeat lacing his tone. After a moment, Danny pulled his hand away and stood slowly. He walked out of the kitchen, and Steve’s heart felt as if it were completely shattered. If he tried to find the positive in this, then he knew that the pain in his heart would distract him from the pain in his side, at least, but there were no positives in this. He listened as Danny moved through the living room, to the front door where he… locked it? He heard Danny punching in the alarm code he knew by heart before his footsteps led him back to the kitchen. Steve sat there in the half light of the fading sun, confused to his core as Danny appeared once more in the doorway. He had undone his tie on the way back, and Steve watched as he slipped it from around his neck, then slipped off his shoes and put them in the corner. He came and sat down in front of Steve once more, and took Steve’s unresisting hands in his own.

“You’re an idiot,” he told him, warmth and affection colouring his tone. Slowly, very slowly, he leaned forward and carefully brushed his lips against Steve’s. It was like warmth and sunlight and every other cliché Steve had ever heard about flooding his system, and he tightened his hands around Danny’s and kissed him back, just as gently.

Soon, far too soon, Danny pulled back.

“Like I said, you’re an idiot. As if I wouldn’t want this with you,” he said, brushing a thumb gently over Steve’s cheek. He smiled widely and Steve’s dumbstruck look and shook his head in amusement. “You are so out of it, Babe,” he said affectionately. “So, here’s how it’s going to happen. You are going to eat this delicious sandwich that I prepared just for you, then you will take all your medication, yes Steven, all your medication; painkillers, antibiotics and muscle relaxants, and don’t think I won’t know if you don’t and then we are going to go upstairs, get you cleaned up, and get you into bed. And tomorrow, tomorrow we will talk about things, I promise you, Babe.”

Under normal circumstances, there was no way in hell Steve would have given in without a fight. But, Danny was _here_. He hadn’t walked away from Steve, hadn’t left. He wanted this too. For the first time in a long time, Steve let someone take care of him.

~*~

Later, after his meal and after Danny had carefully helped him wash down and had re-dressed the worst of injuries, they were lying on Steve’s bed, comfortably ensconced underneath the thin sheets. Danny, wearing only his boxers, was stretched out on his back while Steve curled around him, mindful of his injuries. His head rested on Danny’s chest and his fingers traced idle patterns on his stomach as Danny talked, the low rumble of his voice echoing in his chest and soothing Steve. It was quite possible that Steve was high from the painkillers, if he found Danny talking _soothing_ , but there it was.

“… and while we’re at it, we’re going to have to have a talk about you jumping out of MOVING VEHICLES, STEVEN. I swear, I thought my heart was going to stop when you took a dive out that door, not to mention what it did when I saw you get shot. You went down, and I never want to feel like that again, you hear me, Steve?”

“Sure, Danno,” Steve replied. “No more getting shot. Totally a promise I can make in our line of work.”

“Smartass,” Danny chided, the smile evident in his tone and Steve grinned, hugging Danny close. Danny was off again, talking a mile a minute, gesturing with the one hand that wasn’t rubbing soothing circles down Steve’s back, and Steve closed his eyes. He could feel Danny’s heart beating a soothing rhythm beneath his cheek, and felt his hands warm on his skin. He didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but he knew that it would contain Danny, and that was enough for him.

He slowed his breathing, timing it to every three beats of Danny’s heart, and relaxed his limbs. He sank deeper into Danny’s arms, and finally slept.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note part deux: This was supposed to be a 'Steve lets Danny take care of him' fic, but ended up being an angsty, 'Steve-realising-he'd do-anything-for-his-Danno' fic before the taking care of can being. sorry! But that's where the muse took me.


End file.
